The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [94]
Using his grandmother’s sophisticated media-watch network, Patrick and Zhett had been admiring the ingenious ways dissidents had managed to insert condemnations and seditious messages into a variety of communications venues; his old shipmate Shelia Andez and her cleanup crew were driving themselves crazy chasing down rumors and supposed propaganda strongholds, only to come up empty-handed time and again.
“It sure isn’t the way I would run the circus tent,” Maureen grumbled. “In fact, when I was Chairman — ”
Patrick seized the perfect segue. “That’s actually why we’re here, Grandmother. King Peter himself asked us to speak with you.”
“King Peter? So you’re rubbing elbows with the high and mighty. The Hansa calls him an outlaw — I’ve read the official press releases.” She seemed to find it amusing.
Zhett didn’t. “Outlaw? King Peter leads the majority of the human race. Basil Wenceslas is the real criminal. For months now, King Peter has been calling for him to resign.”
“Like that’ll ever happen,” Maureen said.
“Then maybe he should be deposed,” Patrick suggested quietly. He was sure his grandmother had thought of it herself, many times.
Pretending to ignore what he had just said, Maureen switched off the newscreen in disgust. “You don’t have to tell me all the things the Chairman has done wrong. But I’m not at the helm anymore.”
“Funny you should mention that. We have an official offer from the Confederation that you’ll want to hear. It’s right up your alley.”
Patrick made his pitch, explaining how the King wanted her to provide a counterpoint to the propaganda of Chairman Wenceslas, while acting as an official liaison between the orphaned colonies, the government of Theroc, and the failing Hansa. “It’s extremely prestigious and important. Think about it, Grandmother — what are you accomplishing around here?”
“Why, I thought you always resented my political work.” Her lips quirked in a smile, playing him.
“Like I said, I’ve changed.” Patrick could see she was not entirely averse to the idea he had proposed. “After spending time among the Roamers, I realized that I never understood how hard you worked for what you have. You’ve got skills, contacts, influence, and behind-the-scenes knowledge that no one on Earth or in the Confederation can hope to match.”
Zhett spoke up. “Ma’am, do you want to stay on a sinking ship, or would you rather deploy the life rafts?”
“Don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ It makes me feel old.” Maureen leaned back in the chair and stared out at the landscape. “There’s a name for people who leave a sinking ship, you know. They’re called rats.”
“Or survivors,” Zhett countered.
“Touché. Patrick, I think I like this girl after all.”
“Don’t call me a girl. I’m not that young.” This elicited a burst of laughter from the old Battleaxe.
“Grandmother, Chairman Wenceslas got us into this mess, and you can help get us out of it. I can tell you’re ready to be at the helm again. How much more incentive do you need?” Patrick said with a quick smile; then he grew serious again. “By sending General Lanyan to attack the Golgen skymines and the Osquivel shipyards, the Hansa declared war on the Confederation. The Chairman kidnapped the Mage-Imperator, making enemies out of the entire Ildiran Empire. He agreed to manufacture more black robots even after they massacred the majority of the EDF. And now he’s sending part of Earth’s limited fleet on an offensive against the Klikiss race, which will probably start an all-out conflict with the bugs. Tell me again — why exactly would you stay here and support this government?”
“Why indeed?” Maureen played coy. “On the other hand, do you expect me just to jump aboard your ship and fly off, leaving everything I hold dear? And what about my assistant, Jonas? My God, he’s been in my household since the first mammals appeared on land.”
Patrick said, “With your help, this can all be over soon. Once the Chairman has gone, and the Hansa unites with the Confederation, think of how many people will be clamoring to get into your